Sister-Sons: Thorin's Heirs
by Nenithiel
Summary: This is a prequel for "I Will Forsake the Stars For You." Dis wed Jory while Thorin was absent. When he returns, Dis is close to time of birthing her first child. How did his nephews end up his heirs, and how did Thorin end up helping to raise them.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Dís waddled down the path to Jory's shop, their lunch in a basket on her arm, the growing dwarfling in her belly very evident. As was her morning routine, she had tended her brother's empty home. Making sure it stood ready for his return.

Would he return? It had been six months since she received post from him, and it was a few months shy of three years since he'd left to chase rumors of their father.

She pulled her cloak tighter against the chill air, her feet crunching the thin layer of snow. As she got closer to the square, she encountered a throng of excited dwarves. What had them so excited?

"Enough questions," a familiar voice boomed, "I will answer all in a few days. For now, I seek the comfort of my home and hearth and the company of my namadith. "

Dís froze. Thorin? Thorin is home.

The dwarrow before her parted to let her nadad through leaving her in perfect view. He smiled and clasped hands as he moved forward. Then he saw her.

His smile faded, and his brow knit. "Dís? How, when? To whom?" His broad hands gestured at her swollen belly.

Dís felt Jory's strong arm around her shoulder. "To me, Agnât'-nadad. " He then stepped in front of her and bowed, "Jory, at your service."

"I did not give you leave to marry, Namidith," Thorin growled.

"Nadad, you over step your authority." Dís held her head high. "I am of age that my path is my own to choose. If you want a dwarrowdam to tend your hearth and be only at your beck and call, get you a wife. If Idrís will still have you!"

"GAAAAH!" Thorin threw up his hands. "By Mahal, what is done is done."

Jory chuckled. "Welcome home, Thorin. She tends your furnace daily. You will find the larder stocked with preserved food or you could join us for dinner in our home tonight."

* * *

**A/N: **No, I haven't completed "I Will Forsake the Stars For You" yet. But I thought to get this one at least started. I will start the sequel congruent to the final chapter of "I Will Forsake the Stars For You." I hope you enjoy this journey we're starting in Dís' short time with Jory, and her raising our favorite rascal princes, Fíli and Kíli.

Hand on heart,

Neni


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Dís stared out the window as she kneaded dough for the evening's bread. Through the bare branches of the cherry and apple trees, she could see a storm brewing out at sea. The morning on the mountain, however, proved sunny and still. The Grey Havens were in for drenching.

_Better them_. Her fingers dug into the soft dough as pain gripped her belly. As quick as it arrived, it eased. Her mind raced to remember what the midwife, Audra, had told her.

"The bread be damned," she huffed and waddled to her bedroom. She found herself gripping Jory's favorite chair half through the sitting room. _Mahal! How am I supposed to make it to the Healers?_

The doorbell chimed. "Bless, Mahal," she panted and made her way to the front door as it rang again. She opened the door to find Idís on her porch. "Your timing is fortunate."

"Are you well?" The other dam knit her brow.

"I believe the babe is coming," Dís smiled.

Idrís turned to address the dwarrow on the walk. "Go! Fetch the Midwife and her men folk."

"Milady," he inclined his head and hurried off.

"You don't appear to have broken water," Idrís moved to offer Dís support. "We'll keep you on your feet for now."

"I should finish the bread."

"I'll help."

Dís led Idrís to the kitchen. "When did you arrive?"

"After sunset," Idrís took over kneading the bread.

"I am glad of your company, but sur-"

"I should give up?" Idrís grabbed for Dís as another contraction racked her.

Dís took a few breaths and nodded. "Thorin will not give you what you seek."

"He has one final chance."

They took the lull to split the dough and form it in to simple loaves on the baking stone to rise.

#

Jory shut down his shop and hurried up the path. He spied his brother-by-marriage ahead of him. "Thorin, hold up."

Thorin turned. "I'm surprised you aren't already home."

"Had a piece in the kiln, couldn't leave it." Jory ran a hand through his hair. "What kept you?"

"Negotiation with the traders."

"I heard they changed the price."

"Aye. They tried." Thorin glared back down the cobbled path, "The increase is pushed to the next delivery."

"Should make a trip to Bree this summer; see if we can find a new source." Jory offered as they headed to his home.

"You're going nowhere. Dís will need you home with a babe in arm."

Jory snorted. "Now you're concerned with leaving her on her own."

"Clearly a mistake," Thorin raised an eyebrow, "Look what it lead to."

"Still don't like me?" Jory shook his head.

"You both could've waited for my return and a proper wedding."

"Would it have made a difference?"

"No." Thorin stopped. "I still don't approve of her choice."

"Because my line is unknown?"

"Aye."

"Do you have any other complaint?"

Thorin sighed. "You are lacking in warrior skills."

"Then teach me." Jory paused on the path that lead to his door.

"I may grow to like you, yet."

Jory hurried into his home, Thorin behind him. Idrís appeared in the hall to the bedrooms. "How is she?" Jory asked.

"She is fine." Idrís smiled, "Audra arrived with the birthing chair before her water broke."

"When will the babe be here?"

"In its own time." She headed to the kitchen and slid the loaves into the oven to bake. "Now, if you lads would be of use and make a stew to go with that." She pointed at the oven.

#

"Now, Dís, push." Audra urged, "and you will be holding your babe soon."

The sun had long set outside and the lamps lit the room. Dís wanted nothing more than to just sleep. Idrís wiped her brow with a warm cloth as she gave her final push. The squalling of an infant filled the room.

"He has strong lungs," Audra laughed.

"Fíli," Dís held out her hands.

Audra handed the dwarling to her, still attached. She then clamped and cut the cord as Dís held him. Fíli's questing mouth found a nipple and began suckling.

"Hungary too," Idrís said as she started to bath the babe.

Once the afterbirth slipped out, Audra began tending to Dís' tears. That done she then washed up and left the room.

#

Jory looked up from where he sat at the table, his hands wrapped around a tankard of ale. "I heard the cry."

"You have a fine son." Audra announced, "Mother and child are both well."

Thorin dished a bowl of stew and tore off a hunk of bread. "Come, Audra, eat."

"Thank you." She collapsed on the chair.

Jory called over his shoulder. "I'll ready a room for you, after I meet my son!"

Thorin set a mug of tea before the tired midwife and followed Jory to the bedchamber.

When they entered, Idrís was wrapping the oil cloth that had been under the birthing chair. Dís rested in her bed, the babe still suckling. She opened her eyes as they approached the bed. "Meet Fíli."

Jory pulled the swaddling from his son's face. A fine shock of blond hair and fuzz of a baby beard graced his son's head and face. "Fíli," he whispered.

Thorin placed a hand on Jory's shoulder. "Mahal's Blessings on your family. He is a fine son."

"And he has two fine dwarrow to look up to." Dís beamed.

* * *

**A/N: **I know this is a short chapter. Welcome Fíli to the world.

Neni


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Tighten your buckles!" Thorin barked. He stood, hands on hips, inspecting Jory's armor. He watched in approval as Jory double-checked and tightened them.

"You'll be beating pells for starts." Thorin gestured to the various blades laid out on rough-hewn table. "Pick one."

Jory picked up a short heavy blade. "I'll start with this one."

Thorin drew his own sword, moved in front of the pells, and performed a series of blows against them. He then stepped back. "I want you to repeat that pattern."

The younger dwarrow nodded and moved to take Thorin's place. He watched Jory's form, noting what needed correction. "The blade is a good length and weight for you," Thorin commented, "However, we need to work on your stance and grip."

Jory nodded. "Show me."

Thorin faced Jory towards the pells, and then kicked his feet into position. He then repositioned his sword in his grip. "This is how you hold a sword, and this is a good opening stance. Now, again."

Jory took a deep breath and completed the sequence again.

"Better. Again," Thorin commanded.

By the end, after repeated drills, Jory stood breathing heavy and drenched in sweat. Thorin clapped him on the shoulder. "Retrieve your blade's sheath, keep it with you."

Jory smiled and nodded. "Aren't going to try me on the other swords first?"

"No. To your credit, you chose wisely for your stature and strength." Thorin smiled. "I now know how to weight your wooden practice blade. We spar in two days."

"Think I'll head home and into the bath," Jory laughed, "Dís won't let me near Fíli like this."

"Even without your newborn, she'd want you cleaned up," Thorin replied, "Tonight we celebrate Durin's Day."

#

"People of Ered Luin and guests, on this Durin's Day, I have the honor of introducing my sister-son, Fíli son of Jory." He took the dwarfling from Dís' arms and held him up for all to see. "Born a week ago."

All assembled raised a toast to the new Durin prince. Thorin handed the babe back to his sister. "Though, many of you knew before I did. I hear officially acknowledge that my sister has joined herself to Jory of Erebor. My Agnât'-nadadith was orphaned as a babe when we were driven from our home. We do not know his line. We may never discover what family he hails from. What we do know, he is a fine craftsman, an honorable dwarrow, and willing to learn."

All cheered and toasted Jory as well.

"Let the feast begin as we celebrate Durin's Day, our New Year."

Carts laden with roasted meats and root vegetable were pushed around as dwarrow piled their plates from the platters. The hunt had been good. The celebration grand and joyous.

As the meal wound to a close, Idrís approached Thorin, her dark hair wound in jeweled braids with unbraided tresses in front of her ears. Her emerald eyes narrowed as she addressed him, "Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, Heir of Durin, I have told you on more than one occasion, you are my choice. You have told me time and again, that you intend to give me your beads. "

Thorin stood and clasped her hands. "Idrís, you are the one my heart chooses. I admit, I have put off our betrothal as I search for my missing father. And though, even this last journey, revealed more dead ends of rumors I cannot yet bind you in betrothal, as I will take no wife until I reclaim Erebor."

"And when will that be?" She held her head high. "We are already late. Our chances of me providing you an heir dwindle."

"When the signs dictate it is time," Thorin placed his forehead against hers, "Then I will give you my betrothal beads."

"Give me but the first now." Idrís pleaded, "I will accept you intend your return to be making our home before I receive the others. What I will not do is wait for the one that formalizes our betrothal."

"Trust I will make you my Queen, when the time comes, Idrís." He caressed her cheek.

"If I leave Ered Luin without your first bead. I will not marry, ever. Think well on this Thorin." She stomped off.

Thorin felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Dís at his side. "Thorin, she loves you. Put aside your pride and take her to wife."

"Dís, namadith, I have sworn to this," He grasped her hand, "Would you have me abandon an oath?"

"An oath you made to yourself, to what end?"

"I make to our people, not myself."

"Durin's Folk did not ask you to make such on oath. You may not claim kingship in exile, but you are the Lord they follow. If the signs never align will you then have no heir to lead them when you pass?"

A stately young dwarrow approached and Thorin turned to him. "I suppose you have words for me, Grindle son of Garth."

"A plea that you do not dishonor my sister, Thorin." The young Stonefoot prince bowed.

"I have no intention to dishonor her. I will take her as my Queen when I reclaim Erebor," Thorin held his hands out, "How does that dishonor her?"

"Did you not hear her?" Grindle scowled, "A princess should not have to forsake the one she chose to take a trade."

Thorin shook his head, "She need not take a trade."

"Then you betroth to her ere we leave?"

"I have given her my word, she is my intended."

#

Dís sat in the sunroom, rain making patterns on the tiles as it sheeted down the glass, nursing Fíli as she rocked in the chair. She hummed a lullaby as her son made happy grunts. She looked up as Jory entered the room. "You're home early."

"Aye. Thorin borrowed my shop," he grinned.

"To make a set of betrothal beads?" She sighed in relief.

"Appears so." He reached out for Fíli, who had stopped suckling at his father's voice.

Dís handed him up to Jory, who took him in the crook of his arm. Fíli cooed, waving chubby fists and kicking equally chubby legs. Jory tickled his son's belly.

"Fíli is happy to have you home early as am I." Dís smiled. "We should house Idrís here once she's betrothed until they are wed. At her age, I doubt she wishes to remain with her Adad's household."

"Considering how long that engagement will be." Jory replied as he tried to wrestle his index finger back from his son's grasp.

#

Thorin sat with Jory in the sitting room before the fire, along with Grindle. Jory held Fíli against his chest as the babe napped. Dís and Idrís busied themselves in the kitchen.

"It's a fine home you've built, Jory," Grindle said after a long draft from his ale.

"Thank you."

"Finer than the one I built," Thorin nodded.

"I would say yours is acceptable to house my sister, Thorin," Grindle saluted him with his tankard.

Thorin grunted in reply as he took long draft of his own ale.

"Come to the table," Dís called as she set a roast on the table.

Jory laid Fíli in his cradle before joining his wife and guests. They tucked into a venison crown roast with roasted parsnips and onions. They then finished dinner off with baked apple tarts. Jory helped Dís and Idrís clear the table and set the dishes to soak before the joined Thorin and Grindle in the sitting room before the fire.

The two dwarrow sat puffing pipes. Jory packed his own and joined them. They dams settled themselves, Dís nursing Fíli who'd just started to fuss, and Idrís playing her flute.

When she finished, Thorin clapped. "It is late, we should let Jory and Dís retire. Fíli gives them little rest."

"As babes do," Idrís nodded. "I leave in the morning Thorin. What say you?"

Thorin sighed. "I made an oath, and though as my sister says no one required it of me, I cannot bring myself to break it."

Dís and Jory looked at each other, brows furrowed. Jory shrugged and shook his head.

"I did make your beads, Idrís, and I will show them to you," Thorin's voice dropped to a near whisper as he opened the box to show gold filigree beads set with sapphires, "I will not braid one in your hair this day. I will give the set into your keeping against the day I reclaim Erebor."

Idrís took the box and looked at the beads made for her. "I accept you will not wed me until that day passes, I do not accept you will not formally bind to me in betrothal until then."

"Amrâlimê, this is my promise."

"I meant what I said on Durin's Day," She handed the box back, "I will not wed, not now. Not even if you reclaim your precious mountain if you will not place the first bead in my hair before I walk out that door."

He pressed the box back into her hand. "Keep them."

Tears glistened in the proud dam's eyes. "Grindle, let us away from here. Dís, I have valued your friendship these years. I fear this may be the last I see you. May your son grow strong and possessed with better sense than his uncle."

* * *

**A/N: **Now anyone who has read "I Will Forsake the Stars For You" knows what happened when Idris rejected Thorin. It will be many years before Dís and Idrís meet again. Hope everyone is enjoying this new story so far. As I continue with this prequel to "I Will Forsake the Stars For You" I will also post the first chapter of "The House in the Blue Mountains" sometime in the coming week.

Hand on heart,

Neni


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The chill temperatures brought snow to the upper reaches of Ered Luin. The wind blew it into drifts against the house. Dís worked at clearing the porch starting where Jory had broke a path through the snow to head to his shop.

As she tossed a load to the side, it revealed a dark square buried in the snow. She paused in her shoveling and retrieved the small wooden box. Her heart sank as she peered inside at the beads Thorin gave to Idrís.

"Oh, Nadad, you have lost her." She closed the box and set it aside on the bench to finish her task before Fíli woke from his morning nap.

#

Dís situated Fíli in a sling across her body and wrapped a heavy fur lined wool cloak around her shoulders. She then headed out the door, basket in hand. The late morning sun made short work of the night's snowfall, though the air remained chilled.

Fíli wiggled in his sling and kept pushing the cloak away from him with a tiny chubby fist. "You mustn't do that Dashtith," Dís chided as she pulled it closed again.

The babe cooed and pushed again making it a game as she made her way to Jory's shop. Fíli's insistence on not being covered became more problematic as a drizzle started.

She sighed as the warmth of Jory's shop enveloped her as she entered. Thorin's deep voice rumbled as he addressed the Silversmith, "Could you close your shop for the afternoon?"

Jory looked about. "For what propose, Thorin?"

"I would like you to sit in on the meeting as there are several lads ready to find their apprenticeships."

"You wish me to evaluate if any are suitable for me," the younger dwarrow stated.

Dís approached the counter, "And now would be the time to start securing it, as I've brought lunch."

"Namadith, I shall leave your husband to you," Thorin inclined his head. He then turned to Jory. "I expect you in the Meeting hall in to bells."

As Thorin moved past her, Dís grasped his arm, "I found something this morning."

"What did you find, Dís?" Thorin paused.

She rummaged in the basket and pulled out the box, "I intended to bring it by when I finished here."

Thorin bowed his head as he took it. "Headstrong dam, was not my promise enough?"

"She suited you well," Dís snorted, "Pity you did not take her serious."

Thorin huffed as he stomped out into the rain.

"You should not goad your nadad, Amrâlimê," Jory said as he kissed her cheek, "Set lunch up on the table in the corner. I'll close down my forge."

Dís could see the kiln door open, molds cooling inside. She gestured to them, "Can leave those?"

"Aye," he nodded, "They need to cool and I planned to caste them tomorrow."

Dís hung the cloak on a peg and unpacked the basket. Soon a nice lunch of boar sausage, cheese, a crusty loaf of bread, and apple tarts sat on the table. Jory brought over two tankards filled with mead.

"Will you make him hire a maid, or will you continue to tend both households?" Jory asked as he sat down.

Dís shrugged. "I may have to urge him to hire one. Fíli keeps me busy enough with our own home to tend. It would not have been right to make Idrís tend his hearth when she was not his wife."

"She was willing to as his betrothed," Jory replied as he filled his plate, "Though you're right. She would've needed to live under our roof."

"He's hurt by her rejection," Dís looked at the door.

"His obsession with putting his life on hold against something that may not come to pass is insanity," Jory grasped her hand, "You don't have to follow him in it."

She adjusted Fíli on her breast as she used her other hand to organize her own lunch. "I will urge him to seek someone to tend his home."

#

Jory entered the Meeting Hall. Many dwarrow youths, both from Ered Luin and other Dwarven lands milled about. He appraised them as he made his way to where the Lt Kavil stood talking with Thorin and Balin.

Kavil pointed out a small group of older lads, "They have completed their initial time with the guard, and intend to remain on call as they seek a trade."

"You will be want replacements in the guard for them," Thorin stated with a nod.

"Aye," the young warrior answered.

"We'll be needing you to drill the reserves as well, laddie," Balin.

"I will set up tests to judge their skill," Kavil replied.

Jory walked up, inclined his head to the assembled dwarrow, "I am here as requested."

"Ah, Jory," Thorin clapped him on the shoulder, "Balin has a list for you of those with an interest in fine metal work."

Balin pulled out a scroll, checked it, and then handed it to Jory, "This would be the lot for you to asses."

Jory took the scroll and moved to a table. He took a seat and looked over the list. He then pulled out an empty journal, a glass pen, and vial of ink.

He looked up as Thorin approached him, "Choose well. Your son, is a prince of Durin's line and will be expected to be a warrior. The one you choose will likely be who your successor."

"Will Fíli have no other choice? And what if I have other son's?" Jory frowned, "Your sister as left your house."

"And yet, you set a symbol of Durin in the window of your home," Thorn squeezed his shoulder.

"So you claim her still of the House of Durin."

"And you with her. Jory of Erebor, orphan of a House unknown, have joined hers rather than her yours."

Jory nodded, a wan smile on his face, "You honor me. I trust I have proven myself."

"You have." Thorin clapped him on the back before heading off to others.

Jory took a deep breath and called the first name on his list.

#

"Was that wise to tell him, Thorin?" Balin asked as Thorin returned.

"You have known him longer," Thorin raised an eyebrow, "Is there something I have not been told?"

"Nay. He is a good and honorable dwarrow, if a wee bit out of touch with customs." Balin smiled.

"Then why do you ask?"

"The lad at times doubts himself, given his upbringing," Balin shook his head, "And then you tell him he is not worthy his son."

"I said no such thing," Thorin huffed.

"Fíli will need to spend his time in the guard, it isn't a choice as you said, he is a Prince of Durin," Balin wagged a finger at Thorin, "It does not mean it is the Lad's only path, he's not in line for a lost throne."

"Idrís has rejected my terms, what heirs would I have except those my sister bears."

"Thorin, you cannot take your sister's children from her."

"When she's had at least two sons, I will choose one to adopt," Thorin answered.

"That is definitely not wise." Balin shook his head. "When will you let her go?"

"I will need an heir," Thorin stated.

"Should've thought of that before you lost Idrís to sheer stubbornness, cousin."

"I will let them keep Fíli," Thorin crossed his arms, "Their next son will be given over to a nursemaid and raised as mine."

"I will oppose it," Balin replied.

"Will you?"

"Cousin, you have both lost so much. We all have." Balin placed a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "Do not take her children from her."

"Then what do I do?" He held his hands out.

"Go. Take that box and ride after Idrís. Bring her to the home you built and wed her."

"I made on oath."

"Where did you swear it, Thorin? No one required it. What of your oath to serve your people?" Balin countered.

"How does me wedding serve them?"

"How does claiming a sister-son as your son serve them?"

"It secures my line, and gives them hope for a secure future."

"Aye, that they both do." Balin nodded. "One is the right way, the other not so much."

"Dís will understand."

* * *

**A/N: **Where Dashat is son, Dashtith is an infant son.

Neni


End file.
